


Dirty Little Secret

by TaylorMay1912



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 10, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angelic Grace as Lube (Supernatural), Angelic Grace as a Cure (Supernatural), Blood and Torture, Bottoming from the Top, But also giving Castiel a little something because I hate how the writers treat him, Canon-Typical Violence, Castiel Deserves to be Loved (Supernatural), Clairvoyance, Cocky Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Bears the Mark of Cain, Demon Cure used on Dean Winchester, Demon Dean Winchester, Demon/Human Hybrid, Dirty Talk, Fuck the CW, Fuck the Supernatural Writers, I got angry when Demon Dean was taken away, Jealous Dean Winchester, M/M, Mark of Cain (Supernatural), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possessive Castiel (Supernatural), Possessive Dean Winchester, So I'm fixing it to be a little bit longer, The CW did my ship dirty, The First Blade (Supernatural), Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Wing Kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:21:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26538775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaylorMay1912/pseuds/TaylorMay1912
Summary: I wanted more Demon Dean, so I'm changing Season 10. I also hate how the writers treat Castiel, so trust me when I say I'm not going to let anything bad happen to these two.Maybe a little...but I'm not going to kill them off like the CW did.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 19
Kudos: 126





	1. Blood

'It's over. It's over, Dean, it's over.' Cas gripped Dean tightly, could feel Dean's black heart beating in his chest. Dean couldn't hold back a loud yell as Cas' hand grasped Dean's shoulder, where he had left a mark all those years ago. Some part of Dean's soul must recognise him, Cas thought, because there was the smallest spark of...something, when Castiel grasped him.

Dean went limp in Cas' arms, and Castiel carried him gently towards the dungeon, with Sam trailing behind. The chains were back on him, holding him down, and Castiel burned an extra layer of Enochian demon warding into the chains. With that, they left him there while they talked about strategy.

After a few hours, Dean started to stir. Sam and Cas stood beyond the Devil's Trap nervously, still apprehensive about the whole situation as another dose of human blood ran through Dean's veins.

'What are we going to do? These blood transfusions might be killing him,' Sam let out a heavy sigh.

'Correction: they're definitely killing me, Sammy,' Dean's voice was low and broken, but he still had a snarky grin on his face.

'Cas, can you...is there any way you can tell if it's working or not?'

'Yeah, Castiel,' Cas flinched at the sound of his name spilling from Dean's lips with such venom. 'Tell my brother he's only going backwards,' The angel steeled his emotions as he scanned over Dean's twisted soul. There was something still flickering there, but it was so shadowed, Cas could barely see it.

'He's just fighting the transfusions, Sam. There is still hope,'

'Wouldn't be so sure of that, pretty boy,' Dean's perfect green eyes flickered black, and Castiel couldn't stop his wings flaring in a show of enmity. Dean's smug grin only spread wider. 'Damn, Cas. You been holding out on me?' He brought his normal eyes back, and there was a shimmer of awe in his gaze. Cas' wings stilled. He had forgotten Dean could now see his true form, broken and mangled as it was. The thought made him nervous, and it must've shown in his wings. 'Aww, come on, angel. Don't be shy,' Dean raked his eyes over Cas' form with a dark hunger.

'Dean, what the hell are you doing, man?' Sam took a step in front of Cas, partially blocking him from Dean's view. 'This is your best friend.'

'"Best friend"? Wow, Sam. I think that might be the biggest lie you've said in the past ten seconds,'

'What are you talking about?' Cas knew he shouldn't entertain Dean with attention, but he couldn't pull himself away from it.

'If Cas and I are just "best friends", then I'm half a mind to believe you both honestly think Bert and Ernie are just room-mates. And oh, David Bowie and Freddie Mercury were just buddies. And the chemistry between Kirk and Spock was two bros being bros.' Dean managed to lean himself back in the chair, huffing out a laugh. Cas' heart rate sped up of its own volition, and he could feel his stomach trying to turn in on itself. Strange, Cas thought, but that was a curiosity for another time.

'What are you implying?' He slipped his angel blade into his hand deftly, ready for any kind of retaliation, even with Dean safely trapped. Dean as a human was dangerous enough; but add in demonic strength, lightning-fast reflexes and an ancient curse chomping at the bit for bloodlust...that's catastrophic at best. Dean flashed Cas a grin Lucifer himself would be envious of.

'Castiel, you can't honestly tell me you haven't thought about it,' He cocked an eyebrow. 'Not once? Not even when you had me on my knees, literally at your mercy? Or when I openly invited you to blow me? What about when I told you I need you?' He smirked as Cas' lower lip trembled slightly. 'Though, that's the sad thing about it, angel. The Dean who needed you is dead. That Dean, the Dean you so desperately pin your salvation to, the Dean you were so willing to follow through the darkness for, the Dean you let yourself die for...he's gone," he paused. 'That Dean was so hopelessly in love with you, Castiel, it makes me sick even thinking about it.'

Cas barely felt his blade slip out of his hand. He didn't hear Sam speaking his name. He couldn't fathom the tall Winchester's hand clamping on his shoulder. All he could see was Dean's dead eyes as he admitted what Castiel had always hoped for. A swell of emotion cascaded across Cas' entire being, and he hated it. He hated the feeling. He hated this monster in front of him for taking away Dean. His Dean. Tears rolled down his face, hot and heavy, as Cas processed his thoughts. Meanwhile, the empty shell of the man he loved let out a hollow laugh.

Sam watched all of this unfold, not entirely surprised but taken aback. The fact this monster took the single, most important driving factor of Castiel's belief system and turned it on its head wasn't just evil. It was foul. Their friend deserved better than this. But still, Sam couldn't help wondering...

'Dean. Why would you bring that up?' He tried to keep his voice flat and heated. The demon flickered his gaze to his brother.

'Simple, Sam. Because it hurts Castiel. And I like the disease. I like the pain I cause,' He turned back to Cas, and Sam thought he'd seen a flicker of it before but now it was confirmed. There was still a spark of humanity left in him. Might not even be humanity at all, but it wasn't demonic...and it was tied to Cas. Sam turned away, and he found himself hoping beyond hope Cas would listen to his silent prayer.

'Castiel, I hope you can hear this. Dean has a weakness; he has his humanity. It's you. Whatever you might see flickering in him, that might be because of me, because of my blood. But to override the Mark’s hold on him, I think we need something stronger. I know you mentioned you're on borrowed grace at the moment, but perhaps Dean's soul will still recognise you. Please, man. That's not Dean talking to you, but he's gotta be in there. I can see it when he looks at you. Maybe with the final vial _and_ the touch of grace, he’ll pull through and become human again.' He stared at the wall pensively, now noticing Dean was practically growling at Cas.

'...wanna see what's underneath those slacks. You certainly picked a good vessel, a good way to fuck with my head. Remindin' me of all the times I wanted to take up those offers of dirty motel room hook-ups and dive-bar bathroom blowjobs, but trust me, angel, none of those men could hold a candle to you,' He let out a bark of a laugh. 'Knew you'd be trouble the second I laid eyes on you in that barn. Knew you'd haunt my dreams until I either gave in or died before I ever had the chance and guess what? I fuckin' died, didn't I? But this Mark gave me a second chance, Castiel. The Mark is my second chance, it's my salvation.' He let out a low noise, close to a moan. 'Touch me, Cas. Give me a little taste of heaven,' Sam noticed Dean's wrists were getting jumpy, and he was reminded of Crowley back in the church. Sweat was washing over his forehead, lips cracking from dry-mouth, eyes getting more bloodshot as he continued babbling.

'Dean,' Cas glowered. There was a slight crackle in the air, and Sam felt his hair stand on end. ‘Don’t lie to me.’ Dean let out an empty laugh.

‘Oh trust me, angel. For the first time in my life, I couldn’t be more honest if I tried.’

‘You don’t mean it. You’re just trying to hurt me, trying...trying to get under my skin,’ The angel mumbled, glancing nervously to Sam, who gave him a pensive stare. Something must’ve clicked in Cas’ mind because his eyes cleared and he straightened up slightly. ‘You want me to touch you, Dean?’ He slowly approached the Devil’s Trap, and Sam slipped the final injection into the hand behind Cas’ back. Dean’s breathing became louder.

‘Please,’ Sam wasn’t even sure if he heard that correctly, but he saw Dean’s lips move. As soon as Cas crossed the trap, Dean went into a mouth-foaming frenzy. He snarled and hissed, but Cas continued to slowly make his way towards the left side of Dean’s body. He came up behind him. Dean threw his head back, black eyes glaring into the angel’s blue ones. Cas kept his face emotionless as he pressed his left palm into Dean’s shoulder, covering the invisible mark he left on Dean all those years ago, unfurling his grace to reach in and caress Dean’s soul through the scar. Dean let out a piercing scream, fists tightening and struggling against the restraints. Cas plunged the needle into his neck. Dean kept his burning gaze on Cas as the blood started to flow from the needle into his body. The screaming cut off in a gurgle of growls, and Dean shut his eyes.

‘Cas?’ Sam called, watching the angel let out a heavy sigh as he let Dean go. The man slumped forward, breathing laboured. ‘Dean?’ Sam swallowed nervously. Cas came back around to stand next to Sam, and they waited.

After a moment, there was a heavy inhale of air, and Dean lifted his head. They watched the darkness in his eyes fade, and Dean breathed out heavily.

‘You look worried, fellas,’ He cracked a smile.

‘You don’t say?’ Sam huffed out a disbelieving laugh.

‘How are you feeling, Dean?’ Cas tilted his head, still cautious. Dean didn’t meet Cas’ eyes as he shrugged.

‘Like I’ve been put through the meat grinder five times over, but I’m...I’m me,’

‘Do you remember anything?’

‘Everything,’ Dean brought his gaze to his brother. ‘Sammy, I’m so-‘

‘Don’t. You couldn’t help it, Dean. You’re already forgiven,’ Sam cracked a smile. Silence fell as Sam glanced between the angel and his brother, neither of them looking in other’s direction. The room slowly started filling with awkward tension, and Sam was itching to get out before it overflowed into something he doesn’t want to witness. ‘I’m going to go put some ice on my arm, leave you to it,’ He clapped Cas on the back.

The door swung closed, and Cas stayed on the other side of the devil’s trap. Dean glared towards the door Sam just escaped out of, wishing he could do the same, but...

‘Hey buddy, think you could let me out of these restraints now?’ He jostled both his arms and Cas brought his sad gaze to Dean’s hands.

‘Of course, my apologies,’ Cas’ tone was void of any emotion as he approached the hunter. He still refused to meet Dean’s eyes as he broke the chains off his wrists. Dean rubbed the rawness on his skin, and Cas tilted his head as he gently placed his hand on Dean’s. The wounds faded, but Dean flipped his hand over to hold Cas’. Dean smiled as he heard the angel take a quick breath. ‘Dean?’

‘Cas,’ Dean peered into Cas’ nervous eyes, the smallest smile on his face. ‘How are you sure that worked?’ Cas frowned.

‘You’re healed, though,’ Cas flickered to Dean’s unblemished wrists. Dean made a tutting noise. Cas brought his gaze back to Dean’s eyes.

He stood frozen as black eyes glistened back at him. Dean didn’t move, smirking at the angel.

‘See, you _did_ heal me, somewhat,’ Dean’s eyes flickered back to green, gripping Cas’ hands. Cas didn’t fight, which intrigued the hunter. ‘I’m me again, not the homicidal maniac you saw before...but,’ He shrugged. ‘The Mark doesn’t want to let go of that demonic energy entirely. Human enough to break through devil's traps, demon enough to not give a fuck,’

‘So, what? You’re a demon-human... _hybrid_?’ Cas frowned. ‘That’s not possible.’

‘Oh, angel,’ Dean crooned. ‘Until the Men of Letters, we didn’t think demons _could_ be healed at all. All that human blood,’ He shook his head. ‘Although I have to say, that little stunt with your grace was,’ He exhaled, pretending to shiver. ‘Fucking _exhilarating_. But that wasn’t you,’

Faster than the human eye could see, Dean had Cas’ back pressed flush against the dungeon wall, holding his wrists by his sides. Dean leaned into Cas’ exposed neck, his nose gently skimming over the skin. Dean made a low noise, and Cas bit his lip to conceal his fear.

‘No. That’s not you, is it? You’re running on someone else’s fumes,’

‘I...I...’

‘Metatron still got your grace?’ Dean smirked, flicking his tongue out to run along the jugular vein. Cas trembled, and it made Dean _purr_. ‘Want me to help you get it back?’

‘Dean...’ Cas felt Dean’s grip on Cas’ wrists loosen, and Dean flicked his black eyes to him as a warning. Cas gave him the slightest of nods, and Dean let him go completely. Still, Cas stayed.

‘Perfect. So,’ Dean tilted his head to the side, eyes back to the green ones Castiel adored. ‘How ‘bout it? You get your grace back, I get my revenge?’

‘We have to open Heaven back up,’

‘Fine, fine,’ Dean rolled his eyes. ‘Save your family, get your grace back, _then_ I kill the motherfucker. How’s that sound?’ He gave Cas a playful grin. ‘The Mark needs satiating somehow unless you’re willing,’ He ran his fingers up Cas’ sternum, nails digging in.

‘Dean...’ It was all Cas could breathe out.

‘I’m joking,’ He knotted his finger in Cas’ tie and pulled the angel closer. ‘Wouldn’t dream of hurting you, lover,’ Dean breathed onto Cas’ lips, and a low moan escaped Castiel. Dean flashed his eyes black. ‘You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?’

‘What are you talk- _omf!_ ’ Dean pushed his lips onto Cas’ to silence him, his hot tongue slipping into Cas’ mouth, and Cas was helpless to stop him. Even though he could feel the darkness in him, he still smelled like Dean, and it clouded Castiel’s better judgement. Tentatively, Cas brought his hands to Dean’s jacket and held him close. It earned him an appreciative growl from Dean, yet another reminder that this was _not_ the Dean Winchester Cas pulled from Hell. But Heaven help him, Cas didn’t care.

‘God damn,’ Dean panted against Cas’ neck, clamping his teeth down to leave a deep bruise. Cas twitched, his head falling back against the wall, allowing Dean a better vantage point. ‘A guy could get addicted to this. Gonna keep you close,’

‘We should tell Sam about this hybrid development,’ Some sense was swarming its way back to Cas’ mind. Dean let out a whine, bringing his hand to Cas’ throat, running his thumb down his jumping carotid.

‘Or,’ He sunk his teeth into Cas’ bottom lip and pulled another moan from Cas. ‘We keep this our dirty little secret. We tell Sam, and he’d try everything to take away the part of me that doesn’t hold back from you. You don’t want that, do you, lover?’ Dean smirked as Cas whined. ‘Didn’t think so. I promise you, we will tell him, soon. I wanna keep playing with you like this for a little while longer,’

‘Okay,’ Cas hadn’t realised he had spoken until Dean pulled back with a small smile. He let go of Cas, fixing up the angel’s tie.

‘We should probably go play our parts for Sam, then,’ He winked, before turning on his heel and leaving the dungeon.

Castiel knew that was the moment he was completely and utterly _fucked_.


	2. Bodies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for bearing with me on this fic. I wanted to get through my schoolwork and my other fic before I touched this one again. And I'll be honest, I wasn't quite sure where to take it from the ending of the first chapter.
> 
> Not quite sure how long this one is going to end up being, but at least now I have a bit more of a plan for it.
> 
> Enjoy!

Really, though, Dean should’ve known better. He was kidding himself if he thought Sam wouldn’t catch on. It had only been a few days, but Sam wasn’t an idiot. He caught the strange looks shared between Dean and Cas. He noticed how timid Cas seemed to be around Dean, which wasn’t normal. Sam was prepared for a full-blown breakdown from Dean about what he’d done as a demon, but it never came. There were moments of solemn looks and a high increase in alcohol consumption, but really, that’s no different from when he got the Mark.

‘So, I was thinking,’ He cleared his throat to draw Dean’s attention from the angel yet again. Dean brought his bottle of beer to his lips, glancing at Sam. ‘Maybe we should seek out Cain again, see if he doesn’t know of a way to get rid of the Mark,’ Dean scoffed before draining the last of his drink.

‘You think if he knew, he would’ve gotten rid of it. But we should seek him out anyway,’ He considered. ‘I did promise him I’d kill him,’

‘Thought that was going to be after Abaddon was wasted?’ Dean gave Sam an amazed stare.

‘Shit, that bitch is _still_ kicking?’

‘Well,’ Sam gave him an incredulous look. ‘Yeah. You didn’t exactly have her on your hit list when you were a demon, Dean. You were too busy playing Thelma and Louise with Crowley. Also, about that,’ He crossed his arms. ‘Since when did you _like_ the King of Hell? What, was it like some sort of demonic duckling thing? He was there when you woke up, and you just felt...attached to him?’

‘No,’ Dean scoffed, twitching slightly. Sam raised an eyebrow. ‘Wasn’t like Thelma and Louise, and wasn’t a fucking duckling thing, come on. It was more like...’ He frowned as Sam smirked insistently. ‘Shut up. He was scrambling for some quality Winchester brother time, and I didn’t exactly give up the goods, probably strung him along a little too much. Not that he didn’t deserve it, either,’ Dean smirked. His phone started vibrating, and he rolled his eyes as the Call-ID popped up. ‘Speak of the...well,’ He chuckled, placing his phone on the table and giving a dirty look.

‘You gonna answer that, then?’ Sam frowned as Dean pressed the ‘End Call’ button. ‘Dean, if _you_ don’t answer your drinking buddy, then he’s gonna...’ His face went into immediate bitch-face mode as his phone started ringing. He pulled out his phone, and without even looking at the Call-ID, answered the call. ‘Crowley, surprised you still have this number,’

‘Shut up, Moose. Do you have Squirrel with you?’ Crowley sounded incensed, which made Dean smirk.

‘Yeah, he’s right in front of me,’

‘Put the git on, will you?’ Sam gave Dean an exasperated look, and Dean shook his head.

‘Ever get the feeling maybe he’s just not that into you, Crowley?’ Sam couldn’t help the small smile, and Dean barked out a laugh.

‘Very funny, Moose. Fine then, _you_ tell Dean he owes me fifty new loyal followers. Twit has my henchmen believing they should be following _him_ instead of me.’ Crowley grumbled, and Dean rolled his eyes, reaching for Sam’s phone.

‘Heya dickwad, guess what?’ Dean shrugged, fighting down his seething anger. ‘They’re probably just trying to find _anyone_ else to follow other than weepy emotional Crowley,’ He dug his teeth into his bottom lip before smirking. ‘Be thankful it’s me they want and not Abaddon.’

‘Why would the demons even be gravitating towards you, anyway, Dean?’ Sam frowned.

‘Wait, don’t tell me Moose actually _succeeded_ in healing you, Dean? He couldn’t even heal _me_ without nearly killing himself,’ Crowley spoke with disbelief.

‘Yeah, well, Dean has something you didn’t, Crowley,’ Sam huffed a laugh.

‘What?’

‘Me,’ Cas growled.

‘Ah, Castiel. Good to hear from you so soon.’ Dean didn’t like the immediate smug sound in Crowley’s voice. ‘Did you happen to mention to our boys about how you came across that grace that’s rattling around in your vessel?’

‘He mentioned it, you dick. Can’t believe you just took some poor unsuspecting bastard’s grace,’ Dean’s gaze flickered to Cas’, ignoring Crowley’s laughter. The angel gave Dean a solemn look.

‘You can’t honestly tell me you don’t believe the angel deserved it. Curious, though. See, I can track demonic energy. I am still the King of Hell, boys. I can keep tabs on every single demon in Hell, and the ones topside. I can still _feel_ you, Dean,’ Ice struck through Dean’s heart as Sam shot him a look of alarm. ‘Granted, it’s...murky, but still,’

‘Probably because of the Mark,’ Dean grumbled.

‘No, because if that were the case, I would’ve felt you before you came back a demon. So,’ The smugness in his voice oozed out of the phone. ‘What _are_ you, Dean Winchester?’ Dean pointedly looked anywhere _but_ Sam.

‘Dean?’ Sam’s voice was flat, and he knew what he would see before he brought his eyes to his brother’s.

‘Crowley’s right, Sam, but not quite.’ Dean sighed, glancing around nervously. He eyed the whiskey off to the wall behind his brother. Now he considered it, he _could_ use a proper damn drink.

‘But you’re...huh?’ Sam stood up, making his way to stand behind Cas. Dean watched him, dropping his gaze to Cas.

‘See, if Cas had his actual grace back, I have no doubt in my mind that it _would’ve_ worked,’ Dean held up his hands. ‘And Sam, you can see, it _is_ me. Not the homicidal maniac you saw before the blood. But,’ He hesitated, before shrugging and blinked. He knew his eyes were shining darkly by the look of horror on Sam’s face, and the look of slight disgust on Cas’. ‘I’m also a demon. The Mark didn’t want to let go,’ Dean got out of his chair in time to see Sam pull out the demon knife. ‘That’s cute, Sammy. You know that doesn’t work on me. I mean, it’ll hurt like hell, sure,’

‘Sam,’ Cas stood up, stepping in between the brothers. ‘He truly _is_ back. It’s him, just without restraint. His soul isn’t as twisted, and if it does get truly bad, all I have to do is,’ Cas reached over to Dean without looking in his eyes, and gripped his left shoulder. Dean made a low sound, scrunching his eyes closed, and rolling his neck. Sam stared in disbelief as Dean shook his head, smiling as he opened his green eyes.

‘See? As long as Feathers is around, I’m right as rain. Well,’ Dean shrugged. ‘Until we get Cas’ grace back. But we’ve gotta open Heaven back up, apparently. And kill Abaddon, and Cain, and Crowley,’ He huffed out a laugh at the sound of Crowley making blustering noises through the speakerphone. ‘Then we get Cas’ grace back, then he touches my soul, and boom, I’ll be completely human. If that’s what we want,’

‘Wait,’ Cas tilted his head, squinting at Dean. ‘What do you mean by that, Dean?’

‘What I mean, lover,’ Dean brought his hand to Cas’ cheek, biting his lip to stop from laughing at Sam’s eyebrows playing a disappearing act into his hairline. ‘It might be a good idea to have more than one supernatural creature on our side. And besides,’ He ran his thumb gently on Cas’ bottom lip. ‘Everybody knows you have a thing for demons, angel.’

‘Excuse me, who _exactly_ do you think I am, a pet? Am I not on your side?’ Crowley’s gruff voice cut through, and Dean rolled his eyes, letting go of Cas before turning to the phone.

‘You’re only ever on _your_ side, dickwad. When our interests come together, you come to us, but otherwise, you don’t care. Or at least,’ Dean laughed, and the sound was so cold and empty, Sam couldn’t stop the knife in his hand from twitching. ‘That’s what you were like before Sammy got you jonesing for blood,’ He traipsed over to the whiskey cabinet off to the side of the War Room, silently gesturing to Sam and Cas. They shook their heads, and Dean poured a few fingers of whiskey into a tumbler before making his way back to the table.

‘Curious, though, Dean,’ Crowley seemed unaffected by Dean’s venom-laced words. ‘You point out my blood addiction, which I am proud to say isn’t bothering me thanks to our little vacation, but you fail to recognise your _own_ addiction. Are you craving human blood, Dean?’

‘Oh no, definitely not. Still itching for blood to be spilled, of course,’ He took a long sip from his glass, lips smacking as he continued. ‘But no, Crowley, I’m not begging for it to be put into my body. You forget, not entirely demon, got my own human blood to satiate that. The Mark needs something stronger, just like I needed something stronger to pull me back from the brink of a murderous rampage.’

‘It’s angel grace,’ Sam sounded amazed, glancing between Dean and Cas. ‘You like the feeling of grace mixing with your soul.’ Dean waggled his eyebrows, flicking his eyes black before going green again.

‘Look at College Boy, so smart, connecting the dots,’ He raised his glass in salute before downing the rest of the alcohol. ‘Of course, it helps that Cas and I have a...what did you call it, angel? “Profound bond”?’ Dean’s face became downright smitten as he gazed at Cas. Sam sighed loudly when neither man broke their gaze as the seconds dragged on. Unlike all the other occasions Sam had to break up their looks, Cas was the first to look away. That surprised Sam. ‘Anyway. The Mark feeds off my anger, but my soul feeds off angel grace because of Castiel's claim on my soul in Hell,’

‘How romantic,’ Crowley sneered from the phone.

‘You know what? That’s it, you’re done.’ Dean made to press the End Call button.

‘Hold up. You said you wanted to kill Abaddon, that’s your first priority, right?’ Crowley rushed out. Sam took hold of Dean’s wrist to stop him hanging up, sharing a conspiratorial look with Dean and Cas.

‘Do you have her location?’ Sam asked, eying his phone cautiously.

‘No...not exactly. But I know somebody who knows somebody who...well, you get the drift,’

‘Yeah, yeah, you’re a regular Marlon Brando,’ Dean rolled his eyes. ‘Tell us what you know,’

‘And show my hand so soon? Don’t you know me at all, Winchester? I’ll tell you what I will do, though. I’ll give you an address, and we can meet there. You, me, and Moose,’

‘Cas, too,’ Dean growled, and Cas’ mouth quirked up in a half-smile. Crowley let out an exasperated sigh.

‘Right. Forgot you can’t have Bert without Ernie. Fine, your boy-toy can come along too. Might work out to be wise anyway. Savvy?’

‘Fine.’ Sam let go of Dean’s wrist and watched his brother delicately press the End Call button. The silence between all three of them nearly smothered him, so Sam let out a deep breath. ‘So...’

‘Yes, Sam?’ Dean didn’t bring his gaze to his brother, determined to keep his eyes on the phone, hands gripping the back of the chair in front of him.

‘Well, we’re obviously walking into a trap,’

‘Of course,’ Cas murmured, never breaking his curious frown directed at Dean’s tense shoulders.

‘Maybe we should know what Crowley’s headspace has been like the past few weeks before we blindly trust him, _again_ ,’

‘Hey, that’s on you, not me,’ Dean snapped his attention to his brother. ‘You’re the one who called on the _King of Hell_ to save me,’

‘Coming from the man who called on an _unknown angel_ to save _me_ ,’ Sam crossed his arms, glaring. Dean paused, before cracking a mirthless smile.

‘Touché, bitch.’ Sam mirrored his brother’s grin.

‘Jerk.’


	3. Control

Crowley’s intel, it turns out, led the boys to Windy City. Dean had griped and bitched about the drive, but when he considered it, this wasn’t the worst drive he’d ever done in one go. Sam and Dean both distinctly remember spending a gruelling thirty-five hours driving from Phoenix to Philly, in the middle of one of the worst heatwaves the apocalypse could offer. There wasn’t any time to waste, especially back then, so they had only switched drivers whenever the other was tired, which meant, of course, Dean took the wheel for nearly a full twenty-four hours. If it hadn’t been for Sam waking up violently to the unsuspecting sounds of Asia from the radio, Dean probably would’ve continued driving for a lot longer.

That was years ago now. Both brothers aren’t as young as before, but Dean had noticed his sleeping patterns haven’t been as demanding anymore. Instead of needing at least four hours to keep the edge off, he only needed a light cat-nap. When Cas was around, he slept a while longer, but in the moments the angel left him alone, Dean only got about thirty minutes of shut-eye before he was wide awake and raring to go again.

‘Should we check into a motel?’ Sam stared out the passenger window as they sped through the city, and Dean muttered something nonsensical about traffic. ‘Dean?’

‘Sorry. Uh, maybe? Crowley didn’t exactly give us a time stamp on how long this stupid interrogation thing was going to be,’ Sam’s phone made a pinging noise, and Dean frowned when Sam huffed out a laugh. ‘What?’

‘He may not have given us a time, but he _did_ book us the two-bedroom apartment room at the, uh, Ritz-Carlton,’ Dean let out a low whistle.

‘Sweet,’

‘Guess sometimes it pays to be friends with the King,’ Cas huffed from the backseat. Sam and Dean shared a look at Cas’ haughty tone, and Dean glanced into the rear-view mirror to see the angel sitting cross-armed.

‘You good, Huggy-Bear? What’s with the pouty face?’

‘I’m fine, it’s nothing,’ Cas bristled, and Dean rolled his eyes.

‘Oh, sure. You’re fine,’

‘That’s what I said, wasn’t it?’

‘Cas. Take a look at who you’re speaking to. Sam and I practically wrote the book on avoidance tactics, and you’re giving us the Winchester classic right now. Come on, lover. What is it?’ There was a long pause, and Dean almost gave up on it, focusing on the road. Cas let out a low sigh.

‘I just...I don’t like your friendship with Crowley. He seems to think the two of you are best friends,’ His voice cracked around the words “best friends”, and Dean had to bite down a grin. ‘What?’

‘Gee, Cas, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were _jealous_ of my non-existent friendship with Crowley,’ Dean glanced back up to the mirror, and he let the smirk cover his face at the sight of Castiel glaring at him. The angel’s cheeks were flushed, and his lips were pursed tightly. ‘Oh wow, you _are_ , aren’t you? Oh, sweetheart,’ Dean chuckled.

‘Don’t call me that.’ He snapped and turned to glare out the window. Dean let out a low chuckle, and he ignored Sam shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

**********

  
The hotel was exactly what Dean expected it to be: way too much. The opulent chandeliers and cream coloured silk wallpaper reminded the older Winchester of that beautiful room in Van Nuys, and it made his stomach lurch. He felt like he was being charged by the dollar to just breathe in the air of the reception area. The three of them slowly made their way towards the front desk, nervously fiddling with their ragged duffels. Nobody knew half of their bags were filled with weapons.

‘Right this way, sirs,’ The female valet gave them a warm smile, and Dean noticed her dark eyes lingered a moment longer on Cas. She was pretty enough, with brunette curls held back with a butterfly headpiece, and she had that hourglass figure that would be enough to pique Dean’s interest, usually. But there was a coy smile on her coral-pink lips, entirely directed at Cas, as she walked beyond the desk to escort them. A flickering heat simmered low in his belly, and he glared at the back of the woman’s head as they made their way slowly up the stairs towards the elevator. She waited as the boys entered the mirrored box that was to take them skyward. 

A dark snarl sat deep in Dean’s chest as he watched the woman find an excuse to stand next to Castiel, her hand still a respectable distance away. But it was still too close for Dean’s comfort. Cas kept his gaze on Dean, an eyebrow quiver the only way to tell he knew something was up with the hunter. When they made their way down the corridor, Cas fell in step with Dean, letting Sam fall up ahead to follow the woman towards their room.

‘Dean,’ That was all he said. He clasped his hand gently into the hunter’s, and Dean let out a shaky sigh as Cas unfurled his grace, letting it wash over Dean in a wave of assurance and warmth. He tilted his head towards his angel and pressed a gentle kiss to Cas’ cheek.

‘Thank you,’ The word was cracked and barely formed in his mouth, but Cas caught it.

‘Ah, thank you, Jessie,’ Crowley’s pompous voice called out from down the corridor. As Dean and Cas rounded the corner, they saw Sam and the girl standing by the open door. Crowley poked his head out and gave Dean a wide grin. ‘Come, come, boys,’ He gestured into the room, patting Sam’s arm as he disappeared back into the room. The girl, Jessie, made her way back down the corridor, of course walking past Cas. She gave Cas a wide smile, but it faltered as she caught Dean’s eye. He didn’t even realise he was glaring, but he must’ve looked intimidating because she scampered off quickly.

‘Gee, Dean, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were _jealous_ ,’ Cas murmured, a slight grin on his face. Dean snapped his attention towards Cas, pushing him up against the wall. The angel sighed out his name, but his grin didn’t falter. Dean smirked, flicking his eyes black, enjoying the twitch in Cas’ expression.

‘You’re fucking right, I’m jealous. Didn’t you see the way she looked at you?’ He pressed his lips to Cas’ neck. ‘Probably wanted it to just be her and you in that elevator, and she probably wanted you to fuck her until she forgot her name,’ The snarl that was nestled in his chest ripped out of his lips. ‘But she’s got it all wrong, hmm, angel? You’re not hers, are you?’ Dean nipped his teeth into the angel’s neck. ‘Who’s are you?’

‘Yours’, Cas panted out, and he felt Dean’s grin against his skin. The hunter licked his neck before clamping his teeth down, suckling hard. Low moans tried to slip from his lips, but Dean slammed his hand over them. Faded memories of Castiel doing the same thing to Dean, years ago now, flashed in the angel’s head. The pain gave way to pleasure as the hunter pressed a hard kiss into the violet-red bruise.

‘Damn fucking straight, lover. Don’t heal that.” He warned, threading his fingers into Cas’ hair before pulling him in for a passionate kiss. He kissed like he wanted to consume Cas whole, and before Cas could try to honestly kiss back, they broke apart, Dean’s hands still threaded into every part of Castiel. Dean smirked. ‘Mine.’ He yanked at Cas’ hair in a way Cas knew it would hurt if he was human. There was a loud cough from down the hall, and Dean rolled his eyes. ‘Let’s go see what His Majesty wants from us, hey, sweetheart?’ Cas glared at the nickname, but he still let the man press a chaste kiss to his lips. ‘Hopefully, we can get a room to ourselves and I can fuck you until I forget she even looked at you,’ He growled. Cas gulped loudly, making Dean chuckle. ‘Would you like that, Castiel?’ The way he said his full name made his grace shiver.

‘Guys?’ Sam’s voice sounded confused, echoing down the corridor. He didn’t stick his head out, and Cas was grateful for it. Dean let go of Cas completely.

‘Coming.’ He called back, gesturing for Cas to go first. The angel’s steps were shaky, and Dean snickered as they walked into the room.

Sam stared incredulously at the both of them but didn’t comment on Cas’ hair or the hickey blooming on his neck. Dean’s lips quirked up in a snarky grin as he turned to Crowley, who looked mildly taken aback.

‘What?’ Dean snarled, and Crowley smiled back.

‘How lovely, you’ve turned our angel into your chew toy,’

‘You can fuck right off with that “our angel” crap,’ He glowered, pulling an angel blade out from within his jacket, making it glisten in the room’s light.

‘Down, pretty boy. Merely stating―’ Whatever smug remark Crowley had was halted, as Dean had the demon pinned up against the wall, angel blade held over his chest, poised to strike. Sam and Cas both called out Dean’s name in alarm, but the hunter continued to constrict his fingers around Crowley’s neck, ignoring his companion’s pleas.

‘You forget yourself, Crowley,’ Dean growled. ‘You’re not the strongest demon in the room anymore,’

‘I. Am. The. King.’ He panted out, veins popping from his reddening face. The sight of his struggle soothed the heated anger in Dean’s chest.

‘You’re also my little bitch,’ Dean took a step away and watched Crowley stumble down onto the floor. The demon struggled for breath, blood flushing away from his face. Dean flicked the blade around in his right hand. ‘No wonder your follower count is dwindling. Look at you. You’re pathetic, Crowley,’ He spat out. ‘Where’s the demon?’ The Mark was itching for blood, and if he didn’t get the show on the road, it’d be Crowley’s blood he swam in tonight. The demon flinched, gesturing silently towards the closed double doors on the other side of the communal area. He turned on his heels and made his way to the doors. 

Cas rested his hand gently on Dean’s shoulder before he swung the doors open. Anger seeped out of Dean’s body with every heavy breath he exhaled, but he refused to give the angel thanks. He needed blood on his hands. And he needed it now.


	4. Flesh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW// blood, torture, mentioning of bleeding out, knives
> 
> I actually intended to make this gorier than it turned out, but I'm still keeping the graphic violence warning up. Bear in mind, this is a torture scene, leaning very heavily from the torture scene between Dean and Alistair in Season 4, Episode 16, 'On The Head of A Pin'. It is canon-typical violence, but Dean's headspace during this gets quite...twisted. Please be cautious!
> 
> Also, I came across a headcanon on Twitter for Supernatural which inspired me to expand more on the nature of Dean's reaction to angel grace. The headcanon was for if Supernatural was a show on HBO instead of the CW, there was the suggestion that you could become addicted to the feeling of being healed. Not quite what's going on here, but...keep it in mind.
> 
> Happy New Year!

As they entered the room, Dean could see the demon in question was tied down to a broken chair. Spikes of wood were pressing into the demon’s meatsuit lightly, but Dean could already anticipate how useful those spikes would be. The wood on the chair looked worn by age, and it looked out of place in the otherwise pristine and fresh bedroom. Crowley had even had the fortitude to lay a plastic tarp down on the floor underneath the demon. Dean huffed a laugh at that. He can fault Crowley for many things, but one thing he would never call him out on is his ability to be _thorough._

The demon let out a low growl, eyes flicking black at the sight of Dean. His vessel was an unassuming male― mid-twenties, Caucasian, brown eyes, military-cut hair. His gaze went to Castiel walking in beside Dean, and the demon's lips curled up into a malicious smirk. Dean could see his tongue lightly running on his bottom lip as he took in Castiel’s appearance. That same dark snarl whispered deep in Dean’s chest, and he knew he needed to restrain himself from stabbing him on principal.

‘Evening there, big boy,’ Sarcasm coated Dean’s words. The demon brought his eyes back to Dean, somewhat reluctantly. ‘Do you know who I am?’

‘I take it you’re the one who’s going to kill me?’ The snark dripped like venom from his mouth, and Dean longed to sucker-punch him until his lips were bloody. Instead, he smirked.

‘Well, yes, but I meant more specifically. Ever heard the name “Winchester” during your time in the pit?’ He bit his lip to hide the laughter bubbling in his throat at the visceral twitch from his victim at the name.

‘Dean Winchester?’ The demon tried to school his features to look uncaring, but his cards were already laid on the table. ‘So, that means this is the famous _Castiel_ , rogue angel who pulled your sorry ass from Hell,’ He gave Cas a flirtatious grin. ‘Damn, Dean. I’m amazed at your restraint. If _I_ had an angel like that on my leash―’

‘Shut up,’ Castiel sounded bored, and Dean turned to see the angel giving the demon a cold gaze. It made him smirk, and he focused back on the demon.

‘So, since you know our names, and our reputations, surely you wouldn’t be stupid enough to withhold information from us, right? This is your one chance, and I’m doing this out of the goodness of my heart,’ Dean chuckled. ‘What’s left of it, anyway,’ He approached the demon with easy confidence. ‘Tell us your name first, and then we’ll get to the good stuff, I promise,’ Dean crossed the devil’s trap, and brought his face close. ‘You can whisper it to me if you like,’ He winked. The demon’s eyes flicked black, and he let out a deep guttural growl. Dean rolled his eyes, and swing his right fist into the side of the demon’s face. There was a satisfying crack, and a small amount of blood flew from the victim’s lips. Dean flicked his own eyes black as the demon brought his angry gaze back to him. ‘I can do that too, bitch boy. You’re not special.’ Dean brought his hand to the demon’s throat, and he let his angry growl echo through the otherwise silent room. He held his snarled lips in place until the demon dropped his glare.

‘Joe. My name is Joe.’ He turned his face away to try and break from Dean’s stranglehold. Pleased, Dean dropped his grip and stepped out of the demon’s space.

‘That wasn’t so hard, now, was it?’ He tutted, walking out of the devil’s trap. He took in the rest of the room and smiled at the tray of goodies Crowley left out for him. Blowtorch, an assortment of iron knives, holy water, and salt. ‘My, my, Crowley doesn’t expect me to hold back here. Almost feels like my birthday,’

‘What do you want? You want Abaddon?’ Joe the demon laughed coldly. ‘Fat fucking chance. She doesn’t trust _anyone_ , you know?’

‘Of course. She’s fucking smart, that’s for sure,’ Dean kept pacing around the circle slowly, gaze meeting Castiel. To an untrained eye, Cas would appear indifferent to what he’s witnessing, but Dean knows better. The mild twitch in the angel’s left hand gave him away― he was _nervous_ watching Dean behave this way. If Dean wasn’t so focused on unnerving Joe, he would’ve cooed mockingly at his angel. Instead, he came to the decision. If Castiel was going to be nervous about his torture methods, Dean might as well give him a worthwhile show.

‘Do you know why the angel’s here, Joe?’ He moved behind the demon, gripping one hand in Joe’s hair and the other under his chin. He forced Joe to stare at Cas, who gave Dean an unamused stare. ‘He’s not just here to look pretty. Although I think we can both agree, he does that effortlessly,’ He directed a half-smile at Cas before continuing. ‘No, he’s here to heal you when you start to bleed out,’ Dean snickered as he felt Joe’s pulse jump. ‘Because here’s what I propose,’ He pulled his lips to Joe’s ear, still keeping his eyes on Cas. ‘We, or rather, _you_ give that red-headed whore a call, tell her you’ve got me all trussed up like a pig roast, ready for the slaughter. As soon as she responds, Castiel and I will be able to trace where her response is coming from. And guess who’s blood we’ll be using to make this Watergate call?’ Dean paused, tightening his grip on Joe’s throat.

‘No,’ The word fell weakly from his lips.

‘No?’ Dean let go of Joe completely, rounding the chair so he was in Joe’s line of sight. ‘Sorry, bucko. Them’s the brakes. You’ve got three choices. One,’ He tilted his head to the side, biting his lip in relish before continuing. ‘We drain the blood from you forcefully, and you call Abaddon. Two, you offer up what you know willingly because I don’t fucking believe you’re _that_ ignorant. Or three, I get to slowly drive you insane with all my pretty toys, regardless of what you do or don’t end up squealing,’ Dean brought his face an inch away from Joe’s. ‘What’s it gonna be, Joe?’

He should’ve expected it, should’ve seen it coming a mile away, but the human side of him couldn’t help _hoping_ the stupid demon would be unnerved enough to squeal. Joe spat right in Dean’s face, and Dean felt was a _disappointment_ from his human side before cold darkness washed over him. That’s what he gets, he supposes, for hoping demons weren’t as dumb as he remembered.

‘Abaddon really should’ve taught you some manners, bitch boy,’ Dean growled. He pulled his plaid shirt up to wipe the saliva away. The demon was done with the platitudes and niceties, and so was Dean. Without any pretence, he waltzed over to his treasure trove of torture toys. He smirked as he pulled on the industrial gloves Crowley supplied before pulling the tray closer to the demon. ‘Here you go, buddy. You look so thirsty,’ Dean brought the bottle of holy water up to him, pulling his hair back to pour a considerable amount into his complaining lips. As soon as he pulled the bottle away, he clamped his hand over the demon’s mouth. The sound of muffled screams was music to Dean’s ears, and he felt the Mark pulsing happily on his arm.

Once he was happy the demon couldn’t try a second spit-take, he freed Joe’s lips, taking a healthy step back from him. Blood dribbled from Joe’s cracked lips, and there was a wave of hot anger blazing in the demon’s eyes.

‘Is that all you’ve got?’

‘Oh, no. No, no, no, no,’ Dean grinned, pulling one of the iron knives up. It glistened in the sparkling light of the room. ‘Nowhere near done. Just getting started. Unless, of course, you’ve had a change of heart since your purity shot?’ He chuckled. Joe flicked his eyes black, and Dean mimicked him. ‘Guess not. Now, what was that song Alistair used to make me sing back when I was on the rack? You must remember, willing to bet you were there too, once upon a time. Hmm. I think it goes something like,’ He snicked the blade into Joe’s jugular, watching the pretty crimson pour from the fresh wound with a delicate delight. Joe moaned softly, and Dean frowned. ‘I think it was a _little_ louder than that, come on, Joe,’ He picked up the holy water bottle, opening the lid just so a small spritz could escape. He squeezed the bottom of the bottle, aiming for the open wound.

As soon as the mist touched Joe’s skin, it bubbled and the blood started to run like a fountain. Joe’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he let out a scream. ‘There you go! Now you’re getting it! If you’re not going to squeal, the least you could do is sing for me.’ After making a few more knicks around his neck― enjoying Joe’s screams as he went― he made to grab the container of salt until he felt a hard grip on his shoulder. Dean sighed as he turned to see Cas’ concerned gaze.

‘Yes, sweetheart?’ He spoke as sweetly as he could, picking up the container and unscrewing the lid. He shoved his gloved hand in to grab a large handful of salt, and he held it above Joe’s head, giggling slightly as the salt granules fell onto all the demon’s open wounds. He was sobbing in earnest now.

‘ _Dean_.’

‘Ooh, your smite-y voice,’ Dean purred, shoving the rest of the salt into Joe’s open mouth. His screams gurgled and choked out in desperate breaths. ‘Tell ya, Cas, be careful using that voice in this situation. Might get a little _too_ worked up,’ He huffed a laugh, watching Joe’s eyes stream with bloody tears. Dean got some salt in his eyes. Good.

‘Dean,’ Cas grabbed both Dean’s shoulders and spun him around to bring his face into view. Cas’ face was a hair's breadth away from his, and the deep frown in his forehead would’ve almost been comical. ‘You’re enjoying this too much,’

‘Of course I am, lover. This is fun,’

‘You mentioned Alistair. You...’ Cas paused, squinting at Dean. ‘You talked about being back in Hell,’

‘No, I didn’t,’ Dean frowned, thinking back.

‘Yes, you did,’ Cas tilted his head. ‘Your soul, it’s...’ He squinted before realisation dawned on his face. He didn’t say anything, just unfurled a tendril of his borrowed grace and plunged it into what Dean assumed was his soul.

The euphoria Dean felt at the touch of grace coaxing his soul back out of his darkness made him gasp for breath. He felt his knees buckle, reaching out to cling onto Cas’ forearms. Cas’ eyes began to glow, and Dean let out a wanton moan as the grace threaded itself into the lingering humanity in his soul. Cas combed his grace into Dean’s very essence, and Dean couldn’t focus on anything else except _more more more more_ ―

‘Jesus Christ, you two are fucked!’ Joe spat out blood onto the floor, and Castiel broke his connection with Dean’s soul. Dean stared up at Cas, tears streaming down his face. Cas kept his eyes on Dean and must’ve been satisfied with what he saw looking back at him. ‘No wonder Abaddon hates you so much, Dean. Fraternising with angels...’ The hairs on the back of Dean’s neck prickled, but he kept his gaze on Cas. The angel brought his hand to Dean’s cheek and caressed his thumb gently down the side of Dean’s face, much to Joe’s apparent disgust. ‘Honestly, I’ll be glad to be dead, because if I have to deal with more of Abaddon’s demons thinking of following you with this glittering ball of puke by your side, I’d sooner march right into Vermillion and tell Abaddon―’

‘Vermillion, South Dakota?’ As soon as Dean recognised the city, the Mark took control of the rest. It reached out for the First Blade and itched its way out towards the path leading to Abaddon. Dean’s eyes pulled shut of their own accord, and he was flying down highways, overpasses, rivers, townships...until he saw Abaddon, perched lazily on a bed, wrapped in bloodied silk sheets and twisting her fingers into the entrails of a middle-aged man. Dean’s vision zoomed out to reveal the home. It was a grand estate, double-story with a dying garden near the front entry. The name _Roseneath Manor_ was engraved in the stone pillars near the driveway entrance. Dean smirked as the Mark pulled him out of his fugue state. He locked eyes with Cas and winked. ‘Got her.’

‘The fuck do you mean, “got her”?’ Joe was still spouting off, and Dean had just about had enough. He crawled up Cas’ body, pressing a heavy kiss into the angel’s neck that dripped with the promise of “ _later_ ” before he turned to the bleeding demon.

‘What I mean is, your services are no longer required, bitch boy. Lucky for you, Huggy Bear over here wants to try and keep my hands as clean as possible, so instead of killing you _my way_ ,’ He sighed before grumbling: ‘We’re gonna smite you _his way_.’ He heard Cas make a content noise, and he _barely_ refrained from rolling his eyes. Cas wasted no time, approaching the demon. Joe’s pleas fell on deaf ears, as the angel pressed his hand to Joe’s forehead and a blinding white light burst from the body, a high-pitched screech being the last thing Dean hears from the low-life.

Before Dean could even pull Cas in for a ferocious hug, Sam burst through the door, gun cocked and ready.

‘Dean?’ His brother’s question was hesitant. Dean rolled his neck, wrenching his eager gaze from the angel once more.

‘All done. Didn’t even hurt him,’ He paused to consider. ‘Well, not as much as I wanted to, anyway,’ Dean sighed as Crowley waltzed in, hands held up in question. ‘Yes, Crowley?’

‘Where is she?’ He glanced over the empty carcass still tied to the chair. ‘Honestly thought you’d do more damage. Getting soft, are we?’ Dean growled but didn’t answer. Crowley cocked an eyebrow. ‘What, not going to say anything?’

‘I think,’ Cas kept a cautious eye on Dean. ‘Perhaps we should discuss this later,’

‘Yeah, I’ll be honest with you,’ Dean chuckled. ‘I’m exhausted,’

‘But,’ Sam started. ‘Dean―’

‘ _Sammy_ ,’ He glared. ‘I’m serious. The Mark did something, showed me exactly where she is as soon as I got a vague idea of where,’ He yawned. ‘But it took a lot out of me. You happy to take this room?' He didn't give his brother time to respond. 'Thanks, man, you’re the best,’ He gripped Cas’ trench-coat tightly and tugged him along out of the room. ‘Night, guys.’ He heard a weak response from Sam.

‘Who the fuck does your brother think he is?’ Dean heard Crowley mutter as he hauled Cas across the main room towards the other room. He heard Sam huff an amused laugh before he threw the door shut behind him, effectively muffling everything except his breathing and Castiel’s trench-coat shuffling awkwardly against his clothes.

‘Finally alone.’ Dean cooed, bringing his hand to Cas’ chin and pulling him close enough to stare into those gorgeous eyes, feeling a thrumming glee under his skin at the sight of Cas' timid stare. Hopefully, Sammy brought his noise-cancelling headphones to help him sleep through the night.

Oh, the things he had planned for the angel...


	5. Lovely

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, this is legit all smut.
> 
> You thought Dean would be the possessive dominant top?
> 
> Oh honey no.

Dean traced his finger slowly across the angel’s bottom lip, biting back a smirk. Castiel remained stoic as ever, but the hunter could see past his dismissive exterior, and see his blue irises burning bright.

‘Dean,’ The angel breathed, barely audible through his half-parted lips. But Dean’s spent _years_ unintentionally training his ears to hear his name spilling from that holy mouth. He smiled earnestly.

‘Castiel,’ He spoke the angel’s name, pronouncing every syllable slowly. _Cas-tee-ell_. He coloured the words purple, pink and blue. Purple like the bruises they’d left on each-other over the years, pink like the chapped lips he spent too long agonising over, and blue like the eyes he knew would doom him the moment the angel waltzed into his life. ‘What am I going to do with you?’ He swallowed down a chuckle at the sight of Cas nervously gulping. ‘Come on, lover. You know I’d never hurt you,’ He caressed Cas’ cheek softly. ‘Not unless you want me to,’

‘We should talk about this,’ But he was leaning into Dean’s touch, and the hunter felt a thrill course through him at the response to the attention.

‘What’s there to talk about, angel?’ Dean crooned, thumbing Cas’ bottom lip again. The angel’s eyes drew closed like he was trying his hardest to restrain himself. When he opened his eyes, Dean cocked an eyebrow. ‘It’s clear as day you want me, and you _know_ I want you. So why don’t we―’

‘I cannot be just another excuse for you to burn off your demonic tendencies, Dean,’ Cas growled out, and Dean’s breath caught in his throat. ‘What you want...it would cause too much damage, damage we can’t repair after the fact,’

‘What damage?’ He frowned. ‘To our friendship?’ Cas nodded, and Dean shook his head slowly. ‘If you honestly think I would let _anything_ get in the way of that, you’re sorely mistaken. Castiel, you complete me,’ Surprise flickered across both the hunter and the angel’s faces at the casual admission to what they’ve both spent almost a decade dancing around. ‘In more ways than one,’ He dropped his gaze to his left shoulder. Cas trailed his hand up Dean’s bicep to meet the invisible mark there, and tenderly squeezed.

‘Let’s talk about it,’

‘What’s there to talk about?’ Dean repeated. ‘All I know is when you touch me like that, I feel...’ He was speechless.

‘Euphoric? Powerful?’ Cas was wearing a secret smile. ‘Like lightning striking through a frozen river?’ Dean tilted his head ever so slightly. ‘I could see your thought patterns when I pulled you out of your dark state. It was unintentional, I promise. But, Dean. You seemed...’ He hesitated, but Dean smirked.

‘Addicted? Obsessed’ He supplied, moving his hand down to Cas’ neck, fingers resting lightly on the angel’s pulsing carotid. Dean pressed his nose into the soft part between his earlobe and his neck and drew in a deep breath. He licked his lips, aware his tongue danced onto Cas’ too-warm skin. ‘Like a broken man desperate for another hit?’ He brought his teeth to Cas’ earlobe, nipping hard enough to make Castiel moan. He ran his tongue over the teeth marks. ‘Like you drive me fucking insane with _want_?’ He breathed into Cas’ ear.

‘ _Dean_ ,’

‘Say the word, Cas, and I’ll stop,’ He pulled his face away from the angel’s neck to meet his lust-blown eyes. ‘It’ll suck, for sure, but trust me, I don’t wanna do anything you don’t want―’

‘Dean?’ Cas grabbed Dean by the front of his shirt and pulled him close, so their noses were touching.

‘Yeah, Cas?’

‘I want _everything_ ,’ The words came out in a whisper, a shameful secret buried six feet under and clawing their way out of the grave. ‘I want you desperate, I want you needy, I want you begging on hands and knees for me,’ Cas’ breathing became erratic as he started to talk. ‘But I also want you warm, I want you pliant, I want you holding on to me for dear life,’ He licked his lips as he walked backwards, pulling Dean along for the ride. Dean started to get with the program, unbuckling his belt and letting his jeans cascade to the floor. ‘I want to fuck you until you all you remember is my name, and I want you to make love to me until the world burns to the ground,’ Dean kicked off his boots and yanked his underwear off as Cas ripped the hunter’s shirt over his head.

‘But,’ Cas pressed his hands to Dean’s bare chest, ignoring how much they were both trembling. ‘I won’t if you only want a one-time deal. Do you understand me, Dean? I cannot, I will not allow myself to crash into you unless you swear to me this is only the beginning,’ The angel’s eyes were glowing slightly, and Dean could feel a tendril of grace delicately toe the line between Cas’ fingertips and his heart. His soul.

‘Shit, Cas,’ Dean breathed. Cas raised an eyebrow, waiting, and Dean smiled. ‘Fuck yeah, this is only the beginning. I’ve wanted you for so long, angel, I...’ His tongue tripped at the sight of Cas’ growing grin. ‘I need you,’ He watched Cas’ glowing eyes soften, and the smile became more genuine.

‘I’ve got you, Dean,’ He dropped his gaze to his palm pressed flush against Dean’s beating heart. ‘Tell me how long you’ve wanted me, what you’ve thought about doing with me,’ Cas trailed his hand over the hunter’s pectoral muscle, fingers tracing the anti-possession symbol adorning his chest. A light fog seeped into Dean’s mind, but he was determined to do what Cas had asked.

‘First time was probably when I first met you,’ Heat coursed through Dean’s veins as he remembered the shameful thoughts he had at the first sight of Cas’ wings in that barn. ‘I didn’t care if Bobby was lying there unconscious, I didn’t care if you were going to fucking destroy me then and there. All I wanted to do was fall to my knees and let you fuck my mouth until you came down my throat,’ A moan came unbidden from Dean’s throat as Cas’ nails scratched near his collarbone.

‘Tell me another moment,’ The angel sounded breathless as he pulled Dean’s hands to his chest. ‘Tell me another as you undress me,’ Dean moaned again as he followed Cas’ orders.

‘When you came to me in that dream, the first one, I wanted you to hold me up against the kitchen wall by the back of my neck and fuck me until you covered me in your come,’ Dean’s fingers tripped over the last few buttons of Cas’ dress shirt, and he growled lowly in frustration before just ripping the fabric open. Plastic buttons scattered all over the floor, and he met the angel’s gaze, expecting to be reprimanded. But Castiel just smiled, so Dean continued pulling off Cas’ shirt along with his jacket and trench coat. He brought his hands to the angel’s belt before he continued. ‘When you silenced me in that room in Van Nuys, I wanted you to suck me off until I melted into the ground. When you beat the holy hell out of me in that alleyway, I wanted you to drive your cock into me until I was crying for mercy,’ With Cas’ pants and underwear on the floor, they were both standing in front of each other, completely naked. Dean licked his lips at the sight of Cas’ purpling cock, and Cas gripped Dean’s hips tightly. The angel fell into the bed behind him, and he pulled Dean on top of him. The hunter’s knees bracketed Castiel’s hips, and he felt Cas’ fingers flow from his hips to grip his ass tightly, eliciting another unbidden moan from Dean’s lips, before skirting fingers up and down his crack. There was a pause in the angel’s gaze, a question, and Dean nodded. Cas’ fingers were already lubricated, and Dean felt his own body give easily to the intrusion. He was distracted by the overwhelming feeling of three of Cas’ fingers stretching his hole before he remembered what he was supposed to be saying.

‘When you were that all-powerful god, I wanted you to _make_ me love you, by fucking yourself down on my cock until I was praising you over and over again. When I found you in Purgatory, I wanted...’ Cas struck against that precious bundle of nerves, and Dean panted out a groan before he murmured. ‘I wanted to be as close as inhumanely possible to you from that day onwards,’ He choked on his own breath as the admission flowed freely from his lips. Cas purred darkly as he continued to stretch his lover’s hole. Dean pressed his lips to Cas’ neck, and Cas kissed the side of Dean’s face.

‘What do you want to do tonight, Dean?’

‘Anything, Cas. I’ll do anything if you just _keep_ ―’ A cry fell from Dean’s lips as Cas fingers brushed his prostate again.

‘Do you want me to make love to you, or do you want to fuck yourself onto me?’ Every time Dean heard his angel curse like that, it made the darkness in him sing. He knew his eyes flicked dark because Cas’ eyes flared with grace in response.

‘You’re so hot when you take control of me, sweetheart,’ Dean smirked, and Cas glared.

‘I have to agree, there’s something to be said about this power trip,’ From his tone, Cas could’ve been talking about the fucking weather, which made Dean whimper. The angel pulled his fingers free from Dean’s hole, ignoring the hunter’s disappointed pout. ‘We both know you _could_ take control, but you don’t want to, do you, Dean? No, you’ve wanted me to manhandle you from the start,’ He used his left hand to grip Dean’s hip hard enough to leave bruises, as he guided his cock towards Dean’s gaping and wanting hole. ‘Because your soul has always,’ He caught on Dean’s rim, and together they sighed as he slowly pulled Dean down onto his cock. ‘ _Always_ belonged to me,’ Cas panted as his hips pressed against Dean’s ass.

‘Holy fuck,’ Dean breathed, shutting his eyes tight as he let his body adjust to the intrusion of Cas _finally_ being inside him. Sweat dripped down his back, and Dean could taste blood on his tongue from biting it so hard.

‘Whenever you’re ready, _lover_ ,’ The angel gripped his hands on the hunter’s hips like a vice. Dean was sure he was going to bear bruises on his body tomorrow, and he craved it. He swivelled his hips slowly, drawing a gentle figure-of-eight and relished in the sight of his angel falling apart from his body. He squinted as he focused on the space behind Cas’ back, licking his lips as he remembered the sight of his angel’s wings when he was completely demonic.

‘Do you think I could, _ungh_ ,’ He moaned as Cas thrust up slightly, almost brushing his prostate. ‘Could I see your wings again?’ Cas’ nails dug into Dean’s skin, and Dean whined as he picked up the pace of his movement.

‘Why don’t you try? Tell me when you can,’ His words were shaky, as his lips curled up in pleasure when Dean started riding him in earnest. Dean reached out with the residue of his demonic powers, and something shifted in his vision. Feathers threaded with a blue-white glow decorated the expensive bedsheets, and Dean felt his hands buried in the softness of his angel’s wings. The glow washed over his skin, and he groaned as the feathers burned against his skin. ‘Dean?’

‘ _Cas_ ,’ He didn’t want to close his eyes, scared to lose the sight of his angel’s wings covering the entirety of the bed and wrapping around Dean’s shoulders. He could feel the wings manoeuvring his body up and down onto Cas’ cock, and he cursed. ‘You’re _wing_ -handling me?’

‘Of course,’ He spoke softly, and his eyes glowed. Dean watched the glow surrounding Cas’ feathers reach out and bury themselves into his skin. Cas’ grace fed directly into Dean’s soul, and the euphoric feeling of ecstasy flowed between them. Dean felt his own body become luminescent, dressed in Cas’ dark feathers. His orgasm was nearing, his heart racing at the speed of light to accommodate his poisoned soul interacting with such purity. ‘Dean, Dean,’ Cas breathed.

‘Fuck me, Cas, come on. I’m― _holy_ _shit_ , Cas―I’m so close. Ruin me, c’mon,’ He panted. Cas growled, and picked up his speed as he fucked into Dean. His feathers tightened around the hunter’s body, and his grace tightened Dean’s skin until he felt strung out. A fire burned up from his soul, and his orgasm ripped through him before he could fully process just how _close_ he is to the angel, soul to grace, just like when they first met in Hell.

A shuddering, high-pitched whistle rocked through the room, and Cas pulled himself up to bury his face into Dean’s shoulder as he came, filling Dean up completely. Their eyes met, Cas’ white-blue into Dean’s almost black, and a white-hot rush of devotion flowed through Cas’ grace right into Dean’s soul. Everything around Dean was spinning out― the lights in the room had completely blown, the pillows were covered in black feathers, and Dean could feel deep scratches down his back. He didn’t even notice how _sharp_ the broken feathers of Cas’ wings could be, but he didn’t want anything to disappear. He wanted to bare the marks Cas left on him, the bruises, the scratches, everything. Cas gave Dean a beaming smile as he pulled Dean off him.

‘Sleep, Dean,’ He pressed the hunter into the softness of the pillows, wrapping Dean up in blankets. ‘I’ll watch over you.’ Dean wanted to protest, but the bed was so comfortable, and he couldn’t remember the last time he was so satisfied after sex, so he rolled with it. Cas brought his lips to Dean’s, a chaste kiss compared to what they just did. ‘Remember, this is only the beginning.’ With that, Dean drifted off to sleep.


End file.
